


Can't spell therapist without...

by soseta



Category: Original Work
Genre: Begging, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Double Penetration, F/M, Gang Rape, Held Down, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-04-13
Packaged: 2018-10-18 13:50:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10618233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soseta/pseuds/soseta
Summary: A very bad day for a therapist.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [radioqueen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/radioqueen/gifts).



"Are you sure you're gonna be okay, Michelle?" the security guard asked as he struggled to hold a sheet of plywood over the broken window one handed and keep a grip on his toolbox with the other.

Michelle chuckled as she ducked through the propped open door of the community centre. The whole building had seen better days, and the howling wind wasn't helping. "Of course I am, Dave," she said. "You worry too much."

Dave frowned. "These guys are animals," he said. "And on a night like this they'll be worse than usual. I don't like leaving you alone in here with them."

"I'm fine," Michelle said firmly. Dave was a sweet old guy, but she knew what she was doing, and didn't need a babysitter. She hadn't spent eight years studying to have a glorified caretaker watching over her every minute of the day, and insisting that things like full moons and thunderstorms made the freaks even freakier.

"Okay," he said, still shaking his head and grumbling. "You've got my number though, call me if you need me. There's another couple of windows broken round the side, I probably won't make it back around this way for a while."

"I will," she agreed. "Go on. You don't want to be out in this any longer than you have to."

"Okay," he repeated. "Goddamn global warming."

Michelle walked quickly down the corridor, letting his curses fade away behind her. She wasn't delighted to be out in this weather either, but for a ninety minute Tuesday bitchfest this gig was surprisingly well paid. It wasn't exactly challenging, listening to a bunch of sad sacks complain about their wives and mothers, and there were no great breakthroughs going to be made here, but they had twenty hours court ordered group therapy to log, and she had student loan repayments to make.

She waved at Alison and her Road Rage group in Seminar 1, and hurried past 2 and 3, both empty, lights doused, Tom and Chris already gone home, lucky bastards, to Seminar 4, Anger Management.

Damn.

Most of the group were already there, leaning forward in their seats and talking animatedly about something or other. She preferred to be already seated and waiting when they shuffled in, it helped create the air of control of the situation she liked to maintain. Oh, well. She braced herself for another night of boilerplate misogyny and walked in.

Sure enough, the catcalls started at once. They got rowdy sometimes, when the mood took them, but she usually managed to settle them down fairly quickly. It was nothing new, the usual comments on her rack or her ass, and how her white coat was a crime. Yawn. She ignored them, and started marking off attendance on her clipboard.

"Is Jerry not here yet?" she asked, matching faces to names and spotting the missing one.

"I'm here, sweetheart," he called from the door.

"That's Doctor Tilsey, Jerry," she said sternly. "Come in and sit down."

"Okay, Doc, keep your shirt on," he said, pulling the door shut behind him as the rest of the group sniggered and snorted.

She sighed. So it was going to be one of those nights. Jerry loved his petty defiances, and the other guys loved to follow his lead.

"Leave that open, please. You know the rules."

"I'm sick of the rules!" he shouted, making her jump despite herself. "And I'm sick of coming here and listening to everyone talk about their shitty lives, and I'm sick of you acting like you're better than us because you went to some fancy school."

"I don't think that, Jerry," she said patiently. "But I'm interested in hearing what's got you so on edge today. Come and sit down, and tell us."

" _I don't think that_ ," he mocked, imitating her voice. "Well, you know what I think, Doc? I think we've all had enough of talking."

Michelle looked uneasily round the group. Several of the other men looked unusually keyed up, and the rest just looked furtive, not meeting her eye. She reached into her pocket for her cell phone. Shit. She'd left it in her messenger bag when she'd pulled out her notes. She could see it lying on the table by the door.

Jerry saw where she was looking, and grinned.

"I think maybe it's time for some show and tell," he said, and he turned around and locked the door.

The rest of the group erupted into raucous applause.

 _Fuck_.

Michelle looked around at them all as they stood up one by one, even those who'd been quiet earlier.

 _No, this is okay_ , she told herself. _This is what I trained for_. _I can handle this_.

"We all feel out of control sometimes," she said, willing her voice not to shake. "That's why it's good to have strategies to cope with those feelings. Sit down and we'll talk about it."

Jerry laughed. "I feel in control just fine right now, baby. How about you guys?" 

The other five members of the group all cheered.

"Did you break those windows on purpose?" Michelle asked, a sudden realisation turning her blood to ice.

"We're not so dumb after all, are we?" Jerry said, advancing on her. "And maybe you're not so smart."

She threw her clipboard at him as hard as she could, and made her break for the door. A couple of the guys caught up to her before she'd made it more than a few feet from the circle of chairs, each grabbing an arm or a shoulder, hard. She struggled, but their grips didn't loosen, and they dragged her back to the circle, forced her down into the chair she usually sat in.

"Help!" she screamed, abandoning hope of reasoning with them. "Help! Alison! Dave! Help!" 

One of the guys, Jeff, a twenty something who'd slapped his girlfriend once too often and wound up with a restraining order, punched her in the face. She doubled over, both hands flying to her aching cheek.

"Shut up!" he shouted. "I'm sick of you too. It's my kid's birthday and that bitch won't let me back in the house thanks to you."

She sucked in an agonised breath and tried to speak calmly.

"You know that isn't true, Jeff," she said, blinking tears out of her eyes and forcing herself to look him in the face. "The court decided that, not me."

"Well, the court's not here," he said. "Right, Jerry?" 

"Right." Jerry waved a hand at the others as he walked towards her, and they all got out of his way, started moving the other chairs further apart. Whatever this was, they'd clearly planned it.

"Jerry," she said. "Jerry, please. Just let me go."

"But wouldn't you like to _share_ with the group, Doc?" he asked, still doing that awful imitation of her voice.

"Yeah," Jeff agreed. "Time to share, Michelle."

He lunged forward, grabbed hold of her knees, and dragged her off the chair onto the floor at his feet. Her head bounced off the seat, but she managed to raise her hands before it hit the concrete. Before she could sit up two more of the men approached, two of the older ones, both of them big, burly, both of them usually polite and quiet, hesitant to talk. Jeff stepped back to let them past, and they went to their knees beside her.

"What are you doing?" she asked shakily.

Ron and Pat ignored her, shifting around to each take one of her arms in their big hands, pull them away from her head and out, up, behind her, pressing down and holding her to the ground.

The other two moved in and knelt down too, this time at her feet. Max and Liam were younger, but no less strong. They each took one of her knees in both hands, and began to pull her legs apart, or as much as they could with her heavy denim skirt in the way. She realised all at once, with a rush of horror and revulsion, what they meant to do.

"No," she said firmly, trying to make eye contact with Jerry, who was still standing over her, just off to the side a bit, opposite from Jeff.

"Don't do this," she said. "You don't want to do this. Let's all just go home. I'll sign you off, and we can all just forget about it."

"Oh, we want to do this," Jerry said, no mercy in his voice. "And we're _going_ to do this. And I don't think you're ever going to forget about it."

"Jerry, please," she pleaded, composure breaking. "Please don't. I've only ever tried to help you."

Jerry pulled something out of his jeans pocket, unfolded it. It was a pocket knife, small, but enough to scare the shit out of her.

Michelle started screaming, for Alison, for Dave, for any of the men in the room down the corridor who might yet know the difference between fighting over a parking space and _this_.

Ron put his hand over her mouth, hard, and outside the wind continued to howl. It was hard to breathe with his big palm clamped over her nose and mouth, and she started to choke, panic getting the better of her. He let go at last, and she sucked in a few shaky breaths, shook her head frantically as he moved to replace his hand. He put it on her shoulder instead, but the message was clear. Scream again, and no one cared if she suffocated.

Jerry knelt down between her half spread legs. Behind him she could see Jeff sitting in one of the abandoned chairs and making himself comfortable, like some sort of perverted judge.

Jerry loomed over her.

"Let's see those tits, then," he said, and his voice now was thick with lust. "Are they as good as we've all been wondering, all these weeks?" 

He used the knife to cut through her plain blue pullover from hem to neck, the two halves falling to the sides with her open white coat.

"Nice," he said, and Ron and Pat both leaned forward to look.

Jerry pulled the gore of her bra away from her body and cut through that too, letting her breasts spill free. He put the knife down at arm's length, then took both her breasts in his hands, squeezing them roughly.

"Yeah," he grunted. "Beautiful."

He played with her nipples for a moment, laughing to himself as they pebbled up under the pressure, then leaned down to suck one into his mouth. Michelle shuddered and tried to pull away, but there was nowhere to go.

"Hurry up," Jeff called from his chair. "We don't have all night."

Jerry glanced his way, annoyed, then shrugged.

"Yeah," he said. "Let's get to the main event."

He shuffled backwards on his knees, picking up the knife again on the way.

"Please, Jerry," Michelle whispered one last time. " _Please_."

"I like it when you beg," Jerry said. "Not in control now, are you?" 

He sawed through the hem of her skirt, then ripped the heavy cotton the rest of the way to her waist. Max and Liam moved right away, as if on cue, to pull her legs further apart.

She strained against them, but with Jerry putting both hands on her thighs and pushing as the others pulled there was no chance. They pulled her legs uncomfortably wide, pressing down on her knees and ankles, and she felt her pussy opening helplessly under the thin cotton of her underwear.

Jerry moved to make himself comfortable between her legs, and hooked a finger into the crotch of her underwear, pulling it to the side. He stroked over her slit with his thumb, then stabbed it inside her with sudden speed.

She gasped at the shock of it, then started to sob quietly as she realised there was truly no way out of this. Jerry thrust his thumb in and out several times, then withdrew and wiped a smear of fluid across her mouth. She jerked her face away from him, the only act of defiance left to her, and stared at a water stain on the ceiling.

Jerry thrust both hands into her underwear and ripped them open, and the other men all started to cheer and call out encouragement. He moved closer, and she felt his hands moving as he unbuttoned his jeans, heard the sound of his zipper sliding down. He shifted over her again, and she felt the head of his cock slide over her.

"No," she cried, unable to stop herself. "No, _don't_."

Jerry shifted, butted at her a couple of times, then used his hand to position himself at her entrance.

" _Jerry, please_."

He flexed his hips and thrust hard, his cock forcing its way inside her. She choked, tried to breathe through the pain. He pulled back out, thrust in again. She was tense, and dry, and he barely made it halfway, cock dragging against the walls of her pussy. On the third thrust he made it all the way in, his pelvis hitting hers full on, his balls slapping against her.

The others were laughing and counting time as he rutted on top of her.

His hips slammed against her again and again as he rocked back and forth, and he thrust inside her hard another six or seven times, grunting loudly with each one.

"God, you're tight," he gasped out. "I knew you'd be a great fuck."

She stared resolutely at the stain, biting her lip and trying not to cry out loud. It looked almost like a bear from this angle.

"Fuck!" he shouted, and came, body shaking on top of her, come spurting out of his cock and spilling inside her. She did start to cry at the feel of it, wet and warm and disgusting.

He collapsed on top of her for a few moments, breath gusting hot and wet in her ear, then he shifted off her, tucking himself in and zipping up.

For a fraction of a second she felt relief that it was over, but then he moved, shifting to her left leg, into Liam's place.

Liam moved over her and she began to cry for real as she realised the true depth of what was to come. He didn't hesitate, just unzipped, pulled down his jeans. He shoved inside her quickly, and started fucking her roughly, much shorter strokes than Jerry, and faster, but just as hard. He was thin and gangly, and his hipbones jabbed into her, and his pelvic bone kept hitting hers, and it _hurt_ , but almost in a good way, because it distracted her from the feel of his cock inside her. He came suddenly, jerking spastically, then pulled out of her just as quickly as he'd thrust in, moved back to take his place at her knee.

Max was almost gentle. She'd always suspected he had a bit of a crush on her, and he leaned right over her, unlike the other two, and tried to kiss her. She turned her face away from him, but that just put Jeff into her line of sight, and he smirked at her. She clenched her eyes closed and tried to imagine herself somewhere else, anywhere else, as Max kissed her neck and licked her cheek, and settled himself into the cradle of her hips.

He rocked against her for a few moments, stroking inside her with his fingers, circling at her clit. She knew perfectly well, academically, that any reaction was purely physiological, but as it stiffened under his fingers she thought that she might vomit.

Max grunted in satisfaction, shifted into position, and slid his cock into her slowly. He was big, not really a surprise with his height and build, and even with the lubrication of two men's come inside her – _oh, God, she almost gagged again at the thought_ – taking him forced her inner muscles to stretch painfully.

"That's good, baby," he moaned, and he started to thrust, a slow, steady pace. "That's so good. You're so good, Michelle."

He stroked his hands up her sides, took her breasts in his hands and cupped them, squeezed them to the same rhythm as the thrusting of his cock inside her. It seemed to last forever, as hot tears leaked past her closed eyelids and he heaved and moaned on top of her. At last he gave a mighty shudder and came, more hot wet gushing inside her, but he kept thrusting through the aftershocks, fucking and fucking and fucking her, until finally his cock softened and slipped wetly out of her.

She barely noticed as Ron climbed on top of her, trying instead to count the holes in the ceiling tiles. He wheezed and panted on top of her, but after Max she could barely feel him moving. Or maybe she was just numb. At some point he, too, came, and shifted off her to be replaced by Pat. Pat was quick, his cock barely inside her before he was coming, and she remembered, vaguely, the suspicion that his troubles at home had their origin in sexual dysfunction.

That left only Jeff, and she began to hope it would soon be over.

Jeff stood over her a moment, looking down.

"Turn her over," he said.

The rest hollered and hooted, and shifted to turn her onto her front. She stared at the faded pattern in the linoleum instead, and wondered why he suddenly didn't want to look her in the face when he hadn't had a problem previously. He knelt down behind her and unzipped his pants. She braced for him to thrust inside her, but inside he slid three fingers into her sopping pussy, crooked them, and scooped out a handful of come. A moment later she realised it wasn't any kind of hesitation at all, and certainly no kindness, as his wet fingers stabbed at her ass.

"Stop," she managed to gasp out hoarsely, with what was left of her voice. "Not that. I've never… Please not that. Fuck my…" She started sobbing again. "Please fuck my pussy. Fuck my c-cunt."

"Oh, Michelle," Jeff said, the tips of two fingers now thrusting into her throbbing hole, smearing the come around it. "You still think you're in charge?" 

He pulled his fingers out, swiped more come from the mess between her legs, and from the wet, slick noise behind her she realised he was slicking himself up.

He shifted, took her hips in his hands. The others had let go of her now, but they stayed close, ready to grab hold of her at a moment's notice. He pulled her roughly to her hands and knees, and shifted into position behind her. His cock slid across her thigh, stabbed bluntly at her buttocks, then glanced against her hole. With both hands clenched on her hips it took him a couple of tries to find the target, but he finally did, and the head of his cock pressed hard against her before popping inside.

It was barely an inch of him and it already burned like fire, the rim of her asshole stretching, and she grunted aloud. He pressed forward again, and slid a little further inside her, and she moaned as his flesh dragged against hers. It only excited him more, and he pulled out a little then pushed back in, hard. He made it halfway inside her that time, and the others started to cheer him on again, cries of _Pop that cherry!_ and _Fuck that pretty ass!_ blending together with the rush of blood in her ears.

He thrust in again, and her muscles gave, body opening up to him. She cried out in pain, and he laughed at her even as he slid all the way inside, they all laughed at her. She felt the wiry brush of his pubic hair against her skin, the slap of his balls against her bruised pussy. He started to fuck her for real then, sawing in and out, his breath coming hot and wet against the back of her neck.

It was excruciating, every stroke like she was being torn apart all over again, but at last it was over. He shook and came, and collapsed heavily on her back, crushing her against the floor. His cock felt even worse inside her ass soft than it had when hard, and she almost screamed as he rolled off her, pulling out with a jerk.

She lay there, cheek pressed to the floor, eyes firmly shut, and prayed that now they were finished with her they would leave. If they only left, she would get up, go out to her car, and go home, and never say a word to anyone, if they only left. She started babbling to that effect, throat thick, voice hoarse, tears and snot dripping down her face.

Max and Liam shrugged, and started heading for the door, already talking about stopping off for a drink on the way home. Ron and Pat straightened up the chairs, the way they always did at the end of every session, and headed out too. Michelle watched them from what felt like a distance, and stayed where she was, curled up into a ball on the floor.

"Come on," Jerry said. "I'll give you a ride."

For a moment she thought he was talking to her.

"But I haven't had her cunt," Jeff said, and of course, they often came together.

"You didn't want her cunt," Jerry said, and he sounded amused.

"Well, now I do," Jeff said. "She promised me her cunt, and I'm going to have it."

He walked back into her line of vision, prodded her in the stomach with his toe.

"That's okay, isn't it Michelle?" he asked, his voice soft as though it was a serious question. "You don't mind?" 

She shook her head and rolled onto her back, spread her arms and legs and lay there like some giant, stranded starfish. What did one more time really matter? 

"See," Jeff said, chuckling. "We've made so much _progress_ tonight."

Jerry laughed. "Fine then, get a move on."

Jeff pushed his jeans, still unzipped from before, back down his thighs, and dropped to his knees between her legs. She didn't move, didn't cry out, just lay there and let him fuck her. He thrust inside her lazily, no rush to come with the edge taken off by his previous orgasm, and she let him. He'd finish eventually, and then she'd go home. She was thinking about a hot bath, and her bed, with its fat pillows and fluffy eiderdown.

"Hurry up," Jerry snapped suddenly. "We have to get out of here before Dave comes round to lock up, and I want another go too."

"I've got a better idea," Jeff said, and he clambered off her. His dick was still hard, sticking out in front of him like a flagpole, bright red, and glossy with slick and come. She watched it bob gently, and idly recognised the signs of shock in herself, but didn't move or care.

Jeff rolled to his back, lay down beside her. "Pick her up," he said. 

"Oh, you have the best ideas," Jerry said.

Jerry pulled her up off the floor and into his arms, then flipped her over till her back was pressed against him. She could feel his cock hard against her back as he stumbled over to where Jeff was lying, half carrying, half dragging her along.

Jeff took her thighs in his hands, and spread them so she was straddling him, then took her hips and guided her over his upright cock. With him holding her, and Jerry pushing down on her shoulders, it was easy to slide down onto him. Her pussy spasmed around him, and he squirmed under her.

"Fuck, yeah," he moaned.

Jerry pushed her to lie down on top of Jeff, and she went willingly, too exhausted to hold herself up. Jeff's cock was rock hard inside her, a hot spike deep in her core, but he wasn't moving, and she distantly wondered why this was what he'd wanted. It couldn't be very exciting for him.

Jeff wrapped his arms around her shoulders, and held her against him tightly. "Just a little more," he said. "Good girl."

She nodded, and dropped her head to his shoulder. She could hear Jerry moving behind her, the familiar sound of a zip lowering. What was he doing? Jeff wasn't finished yet.

Jerry went to his knees, shuffled closer to her, and pressed down, hard, on the middle of her back with one of his hands. The other hand trailed down her lower spine, thumb glancing over her swollen asshole, circling the stretched folds of her pussy where Jeff was inside her so still, then pulling back up to press against her hole.

That got through to her when nothing else could have, and she jerked away from him, but that only forced her harder onto Jeff's cock, and he grunted and twitched inside her.

"Hold still," Jerry said, "It's almost over."

She held still. Surely he couldn't be going to…

But he was. He was. He pressed down on her back again, and fumbled the head of his cock up against her asshole. He pushed his cock into her hole with his fingers, she could feel them shoving against the rim, forcing it wider, and his cock following behind them, making room for itself inside her already aching passage. He kept on coming, long after she thought that must have been all of him, and she could barely breathe, sandwiched between their bodies as she was, and their two cocks filling up every molecule of space inside her.

He lay there on top of her, unmoving, for a good twenty seconds, and she concentrated on breathing, every gasped intake of air jostling the twin cocks inside her. And then, at some silent signal, they both started to move. Jerry had more leverage, his knees firmly planted on the floor, and he started pounding in and out of her ass. Jeff could only lift his hips a couple of inches at a time with their combined weight on him, but it was enough, his hands forcing her down on him harder and harder with each thrust. She felt like she was being split open, their cocks sawing away at her insides, pulling and pushing against her, and the thin wall between her pussy and her ass prodded and pounded by each of them.

Jerry came first, flooding her ass, and slumped down on her back. She could feel Jeff shoving at his hip, and mumbling something she couldn't make sense of, and Jerry must have gotten the message, because the next thing she knew he was rolling onto his back, and she was going with him, Jeff pushing at her shoulder. She sprawled on top of him, his still hard cock wedged firmly in her ass, and then Jeff was clambering back on top of her, shoving her legs open wide and pushing back inside.

He fucked her for another few minutes, harder than anything that had come before, ploughing into her like a man possessed. Jerry, beneath them, was kneading at her breasts again, forcing them together and apart, and whispering in her ear, in time with the brutal thrusts, _good girl, good girl, good girl_.

At last, Jeff finished, coming with a roar and rolling off her. Jerry shoved her off onto the floor, and they both stood up, setting themselves to rights.

"Come on," Jerry said, when he'd glanced around the room and seen all to his satisfaction. "We'll walk you to your car."

"We wouldn't want anything to happen to you," Jeff agreed, picking up the scraps of her underwear and stuffing them into her messenger bag.

Jerry straightened the remains of her clothes, and buttoned up her white coat over the top. She could barely walk, so he half carried her down the corridor towards the exit, past the empty rooms, even Alison finished up and gone home.

He set her down just before they reached the door. Jeff looped the strap of her messenger bag over her shoulder, but he was holding something in his hand. Her driver's licence.

"Don't say anything about this to anyone, Michelle," he said. "Or we'll come visit you at home. Maybe bring some more of the guys, from the other groups."

"I won't," she whispered. She wouldn't. It would be the end of her career, and she'd worked too hard to let it all go for one stupid mistake.

"Good girl," Jerry said again, opening the door.

They passed Dave in the parking lot. He was soaking wet and windswept, but he stopped to say goodnight anyway.

She waved at him, and hurried to her car, thankful that the rain on her face obscured her tears.


End file.
